When A Man Loses His Vision Of

Such Fickle Days Of Love When Pain And Ecstasy Share The Same Hour

We Stone Our Prophets, Then Build Monuments To Them After They're Gone.

We Plan Our Lives In Long, Unbroken Stretches That Intersect Our Dreams The Way Highways Connect The City Dots On A Road Map. But In The End We Learn That Life Is Lived In The Side Roads, Alleys, And Detours.

Forgiveness Does Not Require Us To Close Our Eyes But Rather To Truly Open Them.

We Carry Around In Our Heads These Pictures Of What Our Lives Are Supposed To Look Like, Painted By The Brush Of Out Intentions. It's The Great, Deep Secret Of Humanity That In The End None Of Our Lives Look The Way We Thought They Would. As Much As We Wish To Believe Otherwise, Most Of Life Is A Reaction To Circumstances.